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The Queen has confirmed a global tour, causing excitement but also financial concerns. Celebrities have a disconnect with the financial reality faced by others. Many fans are desperate to afford tickets and took to Twitter for support. The process of securing tickets was difficult and time-consuming. Despite the sacrifices made to attend, it is worth it for the euphoria of seeing Beyonce. The reality is that inflation benefits the wealthy, and celebrities are complicit in this system. There is no easy answer, but it is not fair to blame musicians for economic inequality. Fans should not feel guilty for finding happiness, even if it comes in the form of an expensive concert ticket. 129 GMT and my phone is going insane with notifications. It's finally been confirmed by none other than the Queen herself a global tour is underway. Once some of the excitement subsides, a devastating clarity looms over all of us. How the fuck are we going to afford it? I'd quite literally just quit my job. Though the lucky few can lucky go and manifest their way through financial hardship, there's a very real disconnect that celebrities have with the reality the rest of us are battling through. A £200 ticket is the difference between a monthly food shop versus a self-inflicted fast. Don't get me wrong, as Bey said, these motherfuckers ain't stopping me. In this case, the these in question are my own empty pockets and my lack of financial literacy. So I took to Twitter, gauging the Beehive fandom temperature, and it was exactly as I thought. A wave of desperation ranging from, take my money Beyonce, to, I hope Beyonce accepts Klana. There were thousands of us in the same boat, but not all would make it to shore. Securing these tickets would mean a fight to the death. The Taylor Swift and Ticketmaster shit show had prepared me for the likelihood of crashed servers and ticket scalpers, so my only saving grace would be Beyonce releasing extra dates at reasonable prices. Two MacBooks, three iPhones, and six excruciating days later, the love of my life secured the best tickets he could possibly find. A man above all men. At that moment, I truly understood what it felt like to be loved so selflessly. But that evening it dawned on me just how much time and energy I'd funneled into this whole ordeal. Hours spent away from important things like getting my career off the ground and securing clients, or just going outside. It was ridiculous how easy it was to fall back into being a crazed teenager that has an unhealthy obsession with a celebrity that will never even know I exist. I'm certain Taylor Swift and Beyonce are very aware of the state of the world and how many corners of it are plummeting towards depravity and financial ruin. That their core fan base aren't comprised of the elite, but those who earn less monthly than the cost of a single Club Renaissance ticket. I love Beyonce, so it feels sacrilegious to even type these words, but the reality is the true cost of inflation has lucrative benefits for the wealthy, and we tend to forget that our faves not only exist in that space, they're complicit. So then what's the answer? The answer is, well, there simply isn't one. Unless it's outside of my pay bracket, I can't put a price on euphoria. And in this instance, Beyonce is my version of that. Yes, I'm still going, damn it. The owner shouldn't be on the rest of us to restore the world to economic equilibrium. I don't believe in sacrificing any shards of happiness we might find because we feel guilty for finding them. To do so is to cut off your nose to spite your face. If, like me, your piece of happiness just so happens to be an overpriced concert ticket and two hours of feeling the bass beat through your chest, then so be it. It feels like we're teetering on the hills of a revolution and looking for somewhere to place our anger. Ticketmaster, but wouldn't it be misguided to lay it at the feet of musicians? After all, every great uprising needs a great score.